


Country Magic #4 - Just A Kiss

by olivejuice28



Series: Country Magic [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coworkers - Freeform, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-20 17:14:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21060260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olivejuice28/pseuds/olivejuice28
Summary: Based off the song "Just A Kiss" by Lady Antebellum. The start of something beautiful, from both Draco and Hermione's POV.





	Country Magic #4 - Just A Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer - As much as I adore all of them, I do not own any of the characters in the HP world, nor do I make any money off these little fantasies of mine ;)

**Country Magic #4**

**Just A Kiss**

If you had asked either one of them how they had arrived at this very moment: him strolling down a deserted sidewalk in the middle of the night while whistling to himself, and her skipping up the stairs to her flat with her head still spinning, they probably wouldn’t have been able to explain. What had started out as separate plans to attend a retirement dinner had slowly, effortlessly, fascinatingly turned into….whatever _this_ was.

Gerald Ammonbright and his wife Hortence had both worked at the Ministry for seventy-five years. He had started out as a night shift security guard straight out of Hogwarts, and within a decade had worked his way into the coveted spot behind the Welcome Desk, which every single person entering the atrium passed by. He was a friendly and jovial man, with a smile or a kind word for all, and had become a bit of an institution around there. He knew virtually everyone at least by face, but more often by name, and was always good for a bit of news or a quick joke. Hortence was equally established within those hallowed halls, starting as a cook in the cafeteria, and eventually taking on the ubiquitous role of the Tea Trolley Witch. Every afternoon she could be found winding her way through all nine levels, up and down each corridor, pushing her silver cart with a buffet of offerings to nudge the Ministry’s employees out of their afternoon slump. She even took a handheld tray down the stairs to the tenth level for the guards who never left their posts outside the courtrooms and holding cells.

After such lengthy and dedicated careers, it was no surprise that their joint retirement would warrant a spectacular send-off. All current employees were invited, as well as many friends and former coworkers of the couple, and all the veritable stops had been pulled out in an effort to display the deep appreciation and fondness felt on behalf of the Ministry as a whole. A five-course meal served on fine china was to be followed by multiple speeches, and the presentation of a surprise gift (which everyone already knew was an all-expense-paid trip to Italy, because apparently keeping secrets is not part of the job requirement when you work for the International Portkey Office).

The atrium had been transformed into an elegant dining room. Hundreds of round tables, covered with white linen cloths and decked with lavish centerpieces of exotic flowers and glittering crystals filled the space, while a live band played soft music from the far corner. As the guests filed in, it was no surprise that several tables next to each other were occupied by Hogwarts alumni of a certain age group. One such table contained Harry and Ginny Potter, Blaise Zabini and his fiancée Pansy Parkinson, Pavarti Patil, who was covering the event for the _Prophet_, Dennis Creevey, who was taking pictures for said article, Anthony Goldstein, who had just sat down on Hermione Granger’s right, and Terry Boot, who had simultaneously taken the seat to her left. The remaining empty chair, directly across the table from Hermione, was snatched up by Draco Malfoy, who had rushed in just as the Minister stood to welcome everyone.

Conversation flowed pleasantly around the table as the beautifully plated and delicious courses were served. Draco, however, was unable to fully focus on what Blaise was talking about, or enjoy the appetizing meal, due to the fact that his attention kept being drawn back to the witch sitting straight across the way. He had, of course, seen Hermione a handful of times over the last five years since they had all left school, but it was typically just in passing as they were on their way to their respective offices. Once or twice they had run into each other in Diagon Alley, and had both attended a few events, but always remained outside of each other’s orbits. This was the first time he’d had a chance to just observe her and he found he couldn’t stop staring.

She was gorgeous. There was no denying it, not that he wanted to, but he couldn’t figure out when she had turned from the bushy-haired mess he remembered at Hogwarts, to the poised and polished beauty in front of him. Her hair was swept up in an elegant twist, showing off her slender neck and shoulders, and the strapless, midnight blue gown she wore fit her like a second skin. But it wasn’t simply her physical appearance that enchanted him; it was the sparkle in her eyes and the musical sound of her laugh. It was the friendly way she engaged everyone around her, and the genuine joy and contentment she seemed to radiate. He studied her face more intently and could tell, even from where he sat, that her makeup was minimal and she’d not used any glamour charms. She didn’t need any of that, anyway.

He wondered, as he watched her converse with the two blokes on either side of her, if one of them was her date, or if both of them were vying for her attention. She didn’t seem to be favoring either one, though not for lack of trying on their parts. Caught staring when her eyes flickered over to him, he tried to play it off by giving a small smirk and leaning towards Blaise, as if he’d been following the discussion all along. A moment later, he chanced a look and she was once again chatting with the others at their table. He didn’t know why, but he suddenly had a very strong desire to be on the receiving end of her attention and decided then and there that he would not let the evening come to close without spending at least ten solid minutes in that vein. He needed to figure out where this spontaneous fascination had come from.

Unbeknownst to him, across the expanse of white linen and cut crystal, Hermione had been equally intrigued by the last member to join their party. She had almost embarrassed herself when he’d arrived by allowing her jaw to drop open and her eyes to goggle. Mentally kicking herself for the very atypical reaction, she started cataloging the possible reasons behind it. Obviously she’d seen him here and there over the years, and clearly she knew he’d grown up, but the arrogant, sneering, pointy-faced prat he had been as a boy was nowhere to be found. In his place was a broad-shouldered, almost ruggedly handsome man who exuded a friendly confidence and sported a brilliant smile. She was clearly in trouble, if the visceral reaction she was having was any indication. Forcing her attention back to the lovely dinner in front of her, and the pleasant conversation happening with her tablemates, she refused to look in his direction at all during the next two courses. When she finally did let her gaze roam that way, she found him looking straight at her and once again, her insides joined the circus. She never behaved like this and was quite unnerved by it all, and was determined to puzzle it out before the night was through.

As the final course was cleared away, the speeches began. Thankfully, each presenter must have been given a strict time limit, because not even an hour had passed and the Minister was back at the podium again, presenting the Ammonbrights with their gift. The precious couple was so overwhelmed by the entire evening that they could barely utter a word of thanks, but they didn’t need to as the entire assembly rose in a standing ovation. When the applause died down, Minister Shaklebolt announced that the dessert buffet (which had been set up to look like a gigantic version of Hortence’s trolley) was open, as was the dance floor, and the quiet instrumental music that had floated throughout the atrium all evening shifted to a louder and more lively set. This allowed for some much-needed stretching and a change of scenery for anyone who wished it. Harry and Ginny, Blaise and Pansy all headed out to the dance floor, while Pavarti and Dennis excused themselves to see if they could catch a moment with Gerald and Hortence. Both Anthony and Terry asked Hermione if she wanted anything from the buffet, but she laughed, saying she was far too full to consider another bite at the moment, and waved them off.

She took stock of her surroundings then and found herself alone at the table with Draco, who was watching her again. She met his eyes and smiled. He smiled back and cocked a brow in question. She tilted her head towards the empty seat on her right and he got up and took the offered chair. They simultaneously angled themselves towards each other, both feeling unaccountably nervous but very pleased with the turn of events. He watched her as she tucked a stray curl behind her ear and spent the next few seconds studying every detail of her face. He had never been this close to her before; had her eyes always been such a deep brown? Were there always flecks of gold in them? Had her lips always made a perfect cupid’s bow? He draped his arm across the back of her chair and accidentally brushed his hand across her shoulder in the process. Was her skin always this soft? When had her hair gotten this shiny? Did she always smell like an intoxicating combination of honey and lavender? He forced himself to focus on starting some sort of conversation, instead of sitting there staring at her like an idiot, but when he finally got a hold of his senses, he found that she seemed to be just as lost in a haze as he had been.

From the moment he had sat down next to her, she’d been breathless, and that sort of thing just did _not_ happen to her. Ever. She was positive he could hear her heart thumping wildly in her chest, and was surprised it wasn’t causing her to physically pulse with its intensity. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, not that she wanted to. His hair was still the same shade of platinum blonde, but it was styled differently now; very short on the sides, with the top longer and coiffed in a casually spiked way, as if he’d just run his fingers through it. His eyes were still their unique shade of steel grey, but they weren’t cold or cutting anymore. In fact, they were warm and open and glinting in a teasing manner, as if he knew an amusing secret. His jaw was more rounded now, and the suit he was wearing fit his tall, athletic frame perfectly. In the back of her mind she heard Ginny’s voice using the word “yummy” to describe him, and she almost choked. She covered it up by clearing her throat slightly and looking down at her hands, which were in her lap. She felt his arm move to rest across the back of her chair and her shoulder tingled where his hand had brushed against it, causing her to inhale sharply. What on Earth was wrong with her?

In a desperate bid for distraction, they both blurted out random questions at the same time, his regarding her work, and hers about the couple they were there to celebrate. The blunder relieved some of the tension and they both chuckled and took a deep breath. He gestured for her to speak first, and they were off. For the next hour they talked about everything and nothing, starting with the more typical work-related niceties, and gradually moving onto other, more personal topics. They swapped dating nightmares, compared notes on literary interests, and engaged in a mild debate about whether or not Jaffa Cakes (which Hermione was surprised he even knew about) were an actual cake, or just a biscuit. The strangeness of the situation was not lost on either one of them, and at various times each had inward musings regarding whether or not the other had always been such a pleasant conversationalist.

All of a sudden, their private world was intruded upon by Harry and Ginny rambling breathlessly that they _must_ join them on the dance floor, as a classic Weird Sisters song was being played and it was “just like the Yule Ball.” Groaning good-naturedly, both Draco and Hermione allowed themselves to be dragged out into the sea of people, right into the middle of the throng where their group of schoolmates were being exuberantly nostalgic. Before long, they were laughing hysterically as Harry once again displayed his complete lack of musical grace, and Blaise and Pansy entertained them with a dramatic tango that didn’t go with the song in the slightest. Through it all, they stayed near each other, as if afraid to let too much distance come between them and break whatever threads of connection had been woven. They needn’t have worried, though, since the band decided to slow things down and everyone began pairing off.

She glanced up at him and he held out a hand, giving her a lopsided smirk. She remembered a look like that from years ago, but it had never made her stomach do summersaults before. She moved towards him but let him close the distance, since if it was up to her, she’d attach herself like a sticking charm and possibly never let go. She sighed contentedly as he pulled her in, wrapping his arm firmly around her waist, and gently cradling her other hand against his chest. She rested her other hand on his shoulder and laid her cheek on it, too. She truly did not know what was going on in her head…or her heart…or her _everywhere_ that evening. She was jittery and excited, but with nothing to blame it on, and she was also very, very comfortable in the presence of her former rival. She didn’t know how, but he felt so familiar, as if she had known him all her life. She supposed, in one sense, she had, but that wasn’t what she meant. Their conversation at the table had felt like it was one of a hundred, as if they chatted that way all the time, like this wasn’t the first time in five years that they’d said more than “hello,” to each other. She knew she had no right to expect anything from him once they left this place tonight, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t welcome a chance to see what might happen.

As Hermione was mulling all of this over, Draco was trying desperately to come up with a way to keep the evening from ending. He still hadn’t answered his own earlier question regarding where his sudden fixation with her had come from, but he no longer cared. What he _did_ care about was continuing on with whatever was happening between them, or at least what was happening with him. He wasn’t entirely sure she was experiencing the same fireworks display that was currently taking place in his stomach, or if her brain felt like a cauldron of overcooked sludge, but he wasn’t ready to let her go yet. He was taking the happy little sigh she gave when they started to slow dance as a good sign, though. He just couldn’t believe how well they got on. The conversation was effortless with her, and they could clearly read each other’s unspoken gestures perfectly. That had to mean something, didn’t it? Maybe this could really go somewhere. He didn’t think she was the type of witch to string a bloke along in a setting like this, only to disappear like smoke and shadow when it was over. She seemed too genuine for that.

The first slow song blended into a second one and the lights around the atrium dimmed slightly. They shifted a little, coming closer together, if that was even possible, and both recognized that they matched up rather well. Hermione had left her shoes at the table, so at her natural height, her head rested right at his shoulder. As they swayed in time, she turned her face to the other side, and now the top of her head was right under his chin, which he allowed himself to settle there, still being careful not to mess up her hair. He was contemplating how small and soft her hand was in his, while she was noticing how warm and comforting his larger hand felt around hers. She moved her other arm up higher, and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck where she toyed with the short hairs just above his collar. In response, he started moving his thumb lazily up and down the small of her back. These tiny, seemingly inconsequential movements were causing a firestorm of sensations inside both parties, making it increasingly more difficult to breathe evenly, yet neither of them wanted it to stop in the slightest.

When the second song ended, she looked up at him and he jerked his head in the direction of their table, to which she nodded, and they made their way back through the crowd. The air was mildly less stifling off the dance floor, but they both were still on some sort of high and not ready to come down. Hermione sat, feeling rather weak in the knees and was extremely thankful when Draco asked if she’d like a glass of water. When he returned with one for each of them, he sat and studied her for a moment, making her wonder what was going on in his rather impressive brain. She soon found out, when he asked her if she wanted to go grab coffee, which caused her to chuckle since it was already fairly late, and she was definitely not in need of anything to make her more hypersensitive, but she agreed without a moment’s hesitation because she was absolutely not ready to let him go yet. The roguish grin she received in response caused another round of intestinal acrobatics as they gathered their cloaks and headed for the exit.

At almost midnight, their choices for coffee shops were rather limited, but they found one just a block away that would suit. After ordering two coffees (decaf, thank you) and a large slice of chocolate cake (since neither had made their way to the dessert buffet) they slid into a booth near the front window of the café. Their conversation flowed just as freely as it had back at the Ministry, and when Draco came back with refills, he sat on her side of the booth so he could put his arm around her shoulder, which allowed her to tuck herself into his side as they continued to ruminate on all the unimportant things two people who are just learning each other might discuss. Somewhere along the way, he’d pulled all the pins out of her hair and her curls came tumbling down past her shoulders. He gently ran his fingers through them, marveling at how soft they were, while she held his other hand in both of hers and drew random circles on the back of it with her finger. As they talked, they both inwardly wondered at how much they had never known about the other, and at the same time, how intimately connected they now felt, even though only hours had passed in company. When Hermione stifled a second yawn, it was decided that they really did need to call it a night and Draco offered to see her home.

The apparition point closest to her flat was still about three blocks away, which he thought was brilliant. They strolled together, in no hurry whatsoever, their fingers intertwined and their steps matching. She pointed out a favorite bakery just a few doors down and a bookshop on the next corner, and smiled shyly when asking if he’d like to go with her sometime. He felt like he just might have been floating in that moment and readily accepted her invitation. She gestured to a tall brownstone building, saying that was hers and they climbed the front steps to stand in the dim light of the lamp above the door. He turned to face her squarely, taking both of her hands in his, and simply gazed into her eyes for a moment as she did the same. He let go of her hands and slid his up around the sides of her face, burying his fingers in her hair and in response she clutched the sides of his suit jacket, under his cloak. He asked if he could kiss her and she nodded as words escaped her.

Their first kiss solidified every hopeful theory either had entertained throughout the course of the evening. It started out sweet and tentative and increased to something burning and desperate, and ended much sooner than preferred, but considering they were still standing on the front steps of her building, it seemed wise. They took a minute to steady their breathing while he clutched her hands to his chest where she could feel his heart racing in time with her own. He caressed her cheek with one hand and she smoothed down the front of his robes with one of hers. He wound one of her curls around his fingers and she traced the line of his jaw with one of hers. Every time their eyes met they smiled a tiny, knowing smile while their cheeks blushed a little brighter and their hearts fluttered a little quicker. He asked if he could see her tomorrow and she said “no,” which confused him until she teased that it already was tomorrow, so he would have to settle for seeing her again today. He grinned and swooped in for one more kiss, or else he’d never leave, and gathered her in his arms for one more embrace before bounding down the steps. At the bottom, he turned and looked back up, watching her unlock the front door and step inside. She turned around then and waved, still smiling as she shut the door.

Neither of them knew how to explain the night they’d just had, even though they knew their friends would badger them for details in the days to come. What they did know was that _something_ had begun and they were more than happy to see where it would lead them.

**“Just a kiss on your lips in the moonlight. Just a touch of the fire burning so bright. And I don’t want to mess this thing up. I don’t want to push too far. Just a shot in the dark that you just might. Be the one I’ve been waiting for my whole life. So baby I’m alright, with just a kiss goodnight.” ~ Lady Antebellum**

**Author's Note:**

> This one wound up being a bit longer than the others in the series so far, but I'm partial to details and scene setting. Hope you enjoy it!


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